Straight Male / 36
Trapped In Leather, My Endless Fantasy Becomes Reality
I've always fantasized about being kept in a strait-jacket, otherwise naked, and endlessly fucked at both ends, by a pair of older, tough-guys, for weeks, months, even...
Recently a pair of escapees from the local prison found my unlocked patio door, and carried out a very private 'home invasion' during which they found me asleep, half-way into my strait-jacket, a horrendously expensive custom-made affair, of expensive leather, lined with latex, and with an attached hood, whose drawcords could hold it tight to my face, so that the zippered opening lay right over my mouth. Well obviously they quickly completed the process, until I was utterly helpless, and after making themselves at home, for a day or so, decided to have some fun with me.
I ended up on one guy's lap, his hard cock gradually penetrating me deep and deeper, my legs dr**ed over the fat padded arms of the old armchair, while his buddy stood in front, his cock in my mouth, via the zippered opening. One lifted me up and down, on his cock, while the other thrust in and out of my mouth. The one under me reached around and was mauling my swollen testicles, and sliding up and down my shaft, as the other pumped in and out slowly and intensely, until his ejaculation hit the back of my throat, triggering a swallow reflex. Then he withdrew, and closed the zipper tightly, and soon after that his partner exploded inside me, and lifted me off, and out of the chair. On weak shaky legs, I allowed myself to be put back to bed, and they settled down to watch some football game or another. I slept after a while.
The armchair position has been inflicted on me several times a day, and they discuss at length just how long they can take advantage of their situation. Some serious orgasm denial drew a full confession from me, as to my seclusion and lack of friends or family, and how there was really nothing to stop them making this menage permanent.
A year later, nothing has changed, and I crave my time in the armchair to the exclusion of all good sense and judgment, as my permanency fantasy grows more and more likely. Now totally compliant, I am allowed an hour a day, to feed myself, toiletries, exercise, and what I'm doing now....
Recently a pair of escapees from the local prison found my unlocked patio door, and carried out a very private 'home invasion' during which they found me asleep, half-way into my strait-jacket, a horrendously expensive custom-made affair, of expensive leather, lined with latex, and with an attached hood, whose drawcords could hold it tight to my face, so that the zippered opening lay right over my mouth. Well obviously they quickly completed the process, until I was utterly helpless, and after making themselves at home, for a day or so, decided to have some fun with me.
I ended up on one guy's lap, his hard cock gradually penetrating me deep and deeper, my legs dr**ed over the fat padded arms of the old armchair, while his buddy stood in front, his cock in my mouth, via the zippered opening. One lifted me up and down, on his cock, while the other thrust in and out of my mouth. The one under me reached around and was mauling my swollen testicles, and sliding up and down my shaft, as the other pumped in and out slowly and intensely, until his ejaculation hit the back of my throat, triggering a swallow reflex. Then he withdrew, and closed the zipper tightly, and soon after that his partner exploded inside me, and lifted me off, and out of the chair. On weak shaky legs, I allowed myself to be put back to bed, and they settled down to watch some football game or another. I slept after a while.
The armchair position has been inflicted on me several times a day, and they discuss at length just how long they can take advantage of their situation. Some serious orgasm denial drew a full confession from me, as to my seclusion and lack of friends or family, and how there was really nothing to stop them making this menage permanent.
A year later, nothing has changed, and I crave my time in the armchair to the exclusion of all good sense and judgment, as my permanency fantasy grows more and more likely. Now totally compliant, I am allowed an hour a day, to feed myself, toiletries, exercise, and what I'm doing now....
